Starving For Love
by puppypants
Summary: An AU version of the usual AU Papa Smurf series. Set in the 1900's. Tony is nine and Tim is five. Joined by the rest of the gang over time. Warning: Child Abuse
1. Chapter 1

An AU of the usual Papa Smurf AU. So, you could say another story for the Papa Smurf series

Tony is nine and Tim is five. Set in the early 1900's

Tony pushed up the sleeves of his woolly sweater as he gently gripped Tim's hand once they exited the elevator. The kid was asleep on his feet as he tugged on his baggy shorts, absently scratching his leg. It was past nine and they should have been home already starting dinner for the rest of the family.

"I have to tie my shoe." Tim's voice was weak and Tony had to concentrate to be able to hear him. He stopped in mid-stride to wait as his little brother dropped to the floor on one bent knee while crouching over the other to tie his laces.

Tony stood, tapping his toe with his hands on his hips. "Tim?" No response. He nudged Tim's shoulder with his knee. Tim rolled to the ground; out cold and flat on his back. "Tim? Don't tell me you're sleeping."

He bent over the boy yanking on his arm. "Come on Tim, if we're late we'll get a whippin' for sure."

"Don't bother letting him come in tomorrow, he did that at his station today and I had to throw cold water on him." Mr. Harris was slipping his jacket on as he passed the boys, leaving for home for the night. He was one of the managers of The Triangle Shirt Company that Tony and Tim worked for. Their stepfather was the other.

At nine years of age, Tony had been working for the factory for the last two years, doing piecework. He was an efficient employee and produced his quota plus a sizable surplus by the end of the week earning up to ten dollars. Luck would have it; his machine barely ever broke down, something management fancied.

Tim had been working at the factory for a year now; ever since their mother had died. He worked with other children his own age in a department that used scissors needed in the process of the product created. Tim made only one dollar and fifty cents a week. Tony had worried for the day they would promote Tim to machines; many children at his age died working in the machine department, falling asleep then getting crushed within its moving parts. But, now, apparently he would not have to worry over that possibility any longer.

"But wait! You can't! I'm sure you know what our father will do if Tim is fired!"  
>"It's not my problem. You know the rules; I don't care if your father is one of the owners. I already gave Tim his second chance last week and he blew it. Besides…He talks to the other kids too much." Mr. Harris walked away without looking back as he waved Tony off.<p>

Tony walked back to Tim then crouched, eyeing him with anger then sighing as it slowly transformed into compassion. "Dammit. Whatdya expect? We work like fourteen hours a day and he's only five." Tony spoke to himself. He turned to the door that closed with an angry bang, leaving him and Tim inside the factory, alone. "He's really little." He said, meekly.

Tony stared at Tim's sleeping form, listening to his peaceful snore and hating the idea of waking him. One of his long, woolen socks had fallen down and his shoe was still untied. He also wore a knitted woolen sweater, baring a few small holes, which had once been Tony's.

"I sure wish mom were still alive." he whispered to himself. He noticed the dark circles under Tim's eyes and knew they resembled the same ones he wore. He rubbed his grumbling stomach, a habit he didn't even take notice he did anymore. "This ain't right."

The frustration he was feeling grew till it was unbearable. He violently shook Tim's shoulder, "Wake up!"  
>Tim's head rolled, as he stubbornly kept his eyes closed. "Leave me alone…go away. I want mom."<p>

"Well, you can't have her...Can yah? If we don't get home and get dinner ready we'll be in big trouble."

"Oh…I don't care." Tim didn't budge. "Go away and let me dream about her. And…Stop yelling at me." He opened his eyes, glaring at his brother. "All everyone ever does is yell at me." Tony could see the brave front Tim was trying to master but failing when a tear leaked from his eye to run down his cheek into his ear.

"Oh yeah? Well, I'm sick of being the only one that cares."

Tim rubbed his fist against his ear then looked away with a huff.

Tony wasn't going to let his brother's sad eyes get to him. You had to be strong if you were going to make it in this world so he knew he had to be strong for Tim; being his older brother and all. He yanked on his arm, pulling Tim to his feet.

"You think I like it?" asked Tony.

Tim whined and stomped his feet as Tony kept a firm grasp on his arm dragging him out the front door of the factory then towards their apartment located in the village. They crossed Vennessy then made their way to Columbus. Tony was careful to check both ways before they crossed the streets.

Spring was coming but the night had a chill in the air that invigorated him, spurning that second wind he needed to make it till bed time. Cars honked and headlights blinded him as they ran to the opposite sidewalk that followed the river to home.

Tony stood at the stove stirring the potato soup he cooked as his stepbrother, Earnest and stepsister Rebecca sat at the table fully absorbed with their studies. Tim was passed out at the table, his head resting on his outstretched arm.

"Why is he so tired, Anthony? If father finds him like this…Well, you know what will happen." Ernest said.

"I had him darn my socks last night." said Rebecca curtly.

Tony and Ernest glared at the twelve year old girl. She ran her hand through her long, curly hair with an air of conceit. "What? I had to get plenty of sleep for my big test in History today."  
>"He's not your slave, Rebecca." said Ernest. The thin boy adjusted his spectacles on his nose, unable to mask the evident irritation with his younger sister.<p>

"Well, I beg to differ. Father has them working all day at the factory then when they return they're expected to clean, cook and mend. All me and you are expected to accomplish are good grades. So, what would you call them, Ernest?"  
>The teen bit his bottom lip then threw Tony a sympathetic frown. Tony knew Rebecca was right. Ever since their mother died, it had been like this. His and Tim's lack of Blanck blood running through their veins meant they were no longer part of the family but had become full-time house slaves; handing over their pay at the end of each week to the man they reluctantly called father.<p>

Ernest pushed his chair from the table then approached Tim. He gave the young boy's shoulder a quick shake to wake him but when there was no response he lifted him into his arms, "How about you get in your bed, Timmy. Get some real sleep." Tony had to smile when he saw the smirk on Ernest's face when Tim nestled into his chest then watched as the older boy carried him to their bedroom. Rebecca ignored the scene, enthralled with her book.

Tony filled a bowl of the potato soup and brought it to his and Tim's bedroom, hiding it under Tim's bed for later. Ernest was tucking him under the covers as he gave Tony a wink.

When Tony returned to the kitchen their father had arrived and was taking off his jacket to hang on the nearby coat rack, "Where is Timothy?" Tony kept his sights on the stove and attempted to walk past the man but was grabbed by his arm and pulled closer to face him. "Well?"

Ernest entered the room, "He's sleeping father. He seems to be getting sick." Mr. Blanck kept his glare on Tony then shoved him away. "We'll discuss it later."

Once their father was finished with dinner he quietly left the kitchen. Tony knew he should begin the dirty dishes without delay but also knew his father was headed to their bedroom to deal with Tim's incompetence. Rebecca and Ernest had already retired to their rooms so Tony tiptoed down the hall to his bedroom, peering through the keyhole.

Tony clenched his fists by his sides when he saw the man holding Tim with his feet unable to touch the ground as he viciously shook him.

"Harris told me you were fired today, Timothy. I warned you if you couldn't hold your end up around here you'd have to leave.

Tim struggled, "But where do I go? What about Tony? He's my broth-" His father's frustration grew and he slapped him across the face. Tim cried out as the man resumed shaking him.  
>"You think everything in this life is free? I worked hard to get where I am and it didn't involve sleep. You will have to go." When Tim's cries increased he hit him harder. Tim's body went limp in his unforgiving hands so he threw the unconscious boy callously over his shoulder. Tony wanted to cry when he saw how Tim's arms dangled from his listless body.<p>

When his father opened the door to leave Tony stormed him, pounding on the man's thighs, "Where are you taking him? Let him go!"

"Get away from me." Tony sailed through the air, his head hitting the bedpost before everything went dark.

When Tony woke he was sitting on the floor in his room, the door closed. He crept across the floor to peer out the door; the apartment silent and pitch black. He went to a corner of his room and removed a loose floorboard taking out a small satchel filled with coins. It wasn't a lot but it would help; a small portion of earnings that Tony socked away over the last two years for an emergency such as this one. He always remembered the words his mother had told him, Better safe than sorry. Somehow he knew they would need this money someday. He never felt any kind of love from this man his mother called her husband, the man they were instructed to call their father... but now, Tony was prepared. He grabbed their jackets, the only photograph they owned of their mother and Tim's newsboy cap.

Tony didn't leave through the front door of the apartment building but crawled through a window, climbing out onto the fire escape. He searched over the alley below and spotted his father with Tim still draped over his back. He watched as the man tossed Tim's lifeless body into a pile of old cardboard boxes stacked high next to a dumpster. Once the man was out of sight, Tony climbed down the ladder of the fire escape then jumped to the asphalt. He scrounged through the boxes, calling Tim's name.

"Tony?"

He followed his brother's voice finding him in a small heap close to the wall of the brick building. He wrapped his jacket around him, pulling him close so they could huddle against the wall of the building.

"I'm sorry I got kicked out." said Tim.  
>"Don't worry. We'll make it on our own now, it'll be better."<br>"Maybe you should go back, you didn't get kicked out…Did you?"  
>"If you're kicked out, I'm kicked out." said Tony.<br>Tim leaned his head on Tony's shoulder. "What are we gonna do?"  
>Tony leaned his cheek on the top of Tim's head. "We'll figure out something."<p>

"I promise to try to start caring more."

"You do that, Tim. Now go to sleep and have dreams of mom. They'll keep you warm."

At least it will be spring soon, Tony thought to himself.


	2. Chapter 2

Hi,

It's been very cold here lately, so cold I had to buy my dog boots because the frozen ground has been hurting his feet. So, suffice to say, I've been spending a lot of time indoors; writing...and sadly; eating.

I've changed the locations of different attractions and places of NYC just to make it easier for Tim to get around...hence; fanfiction.

/

Slowly, a memory of Tony handing him a quarter replayed in his dreams that turned into conscious thoughts. 'Buy something to eat but be careful and don't lose the rest of the change.' Tim fully woke, opening his fist to find the coin in the center of his sweaty palm. He searched the area around himself to see if Tony was nearby.

"Tony?"

Tim had slept into the late morning, vaguely remembering Tony nudging him earlier when it was still dark. He said he was going...Somewhere and that he'd be back. He promised…Tim knew he had said that for sure. Tony always made promises to fulfill his commitments to him. He had a way of making Tim feel safe; no matter what the circumstances were.

Tim stretched then made his way behind a dumpster to relieve himself.

"Find something to eat, huh?" Tim thought out loud then a memory of the aroma from the peanut vendors that they passed on their way home from work each day began to make his mouth water. His stomach rumbled on queue as he habitually pressed on it with his fist. Licking his lips he headed out of the alley towards the street. He crossed, running as fast as he could till he reached the edge of the sidewalk and gasped. Central Park was in front of him; erasing any plans of finding food but drawing him in, as he grew excited at the sudden idea of exploring it.

He had heard of the infamous 'turtle pond'; located somewhere within its vicinity. He had been told there were ducks in the pond by his stepbrother Ernest, showing him a picture of one from one of his school books. He took a deep breath then entered the park, smiling to watch the beautiful green of the grass pass in a blur underneath his running feet.

When he came to the top a small incline, he stopped to look around and see if there was anyone close by then lay down; letting his body roll freely to the bottom. He lay there laughing out loud looking up to watch white, puffy clouds flit quickly across the powder, blue sky. The ground was cool and wet but he didn't mind. He rolled onto his stomach when he spotted a green bug sluggishly crawling on a blade of grass, studying it.

When he felt that the front of his shirt was good and drenched from the wet soil beneath the grass he continued on his journey. He kept opening his hand to make sure he hadn't dropped the quarter as he walked. He was afraid he would lose it if he stored it in his pocket and wanted to keep a watchful eye on it at all times.

Almost losing hope at finding the pond after walking a considerable distance he yelped with enthusiasm, first seeing the tall reeds and grass that outlined the perimeter of the body of water. The pond was long in length. He spotted a small group of ducks further along its edge half way down so he ran ahead to investigate. The ducks were much bigger than what he had thought they'd be. He especially liked the green one and wished he could reach out and run his hand over its shiny feathers but he didn't dare step to close to the water.

A woman stood close by feeding bread to the birds then offered some to him to throw to them, as well. "Thank you." He giggled when they paddled closer to where he stood to fetch the stale bread. The woman warmly smiled at him and he blushed. When she noticed him take a bite of a roll for himself she told him to eat the rest giving him the last roll she had. He pocketed it for later…to save for Tony.

The woman's bread was all gone, so she left while the ducks continued to float about in front of Tim. He sat on a rock and let the morning sun warm him while drying the front of his shirt. If he concentrated, he could make out music in the distance, wondering what it was coming from. After a while, the music's strong hold lured him to the park's carousel located not too far away. He sat on a bench in front of the merry-go-round, lying face down to watch the continuous motion of the beautifully carved horses, continuously circling. He was tempted to buy a ticket for a ride, but decided he'd rather go on when Tony could. His eyes began to close and he fell into a deep sleep. He woke some time later to find a family standing in front of him, looking at him.

He rubbed his eyes, ignoring them, leaving the bench to find his way back to the streets.

Now where did Tony say he went? Tony had told him to get something to eat so that was just what he was going to do…No more distractions.

He left the park then crossed a few streets leading him to the seaport. He heard the strong screech of seagulls overhead, looking up when one of their shadows loomed in the sunlight. The harbor was busy and chaotic. Men hauled crates of fish from boats onto the docks as they were then hauled to other men, stacking them and carrying them to the harbor's market to be displayed.

Shaved ice overflowed from the boxes spilling onto the ground. People were mulling through the stands haggling, making offers and purchasing whole-bodied fish. Everything looked cold and wet but Tim enjoyed the confused bustle and the people weaving in and out through the different displays. He liked watching the men lift the heavy crates with ease; displaying a sort of choreographed rhythm. Most of the men wore rubber aprons and gloves as they filleted fish for customers.

A peanut vendor was stationed on the outskirts of the market and Tim's mouth began to water. He opened his fist making sure the quarter was still there. Just as he stepped towards the direction of the vendor he was grabbed from behind. Two hands held his upper arms not letting him go. Three boys confronted him, two of them much bigger than him and older than even Tony and a small boy, close to his own age, hiding behind them.

"Let me go!"  
>

It was dark, as it always was when Tony finished work, as he left the factory.

He had hemmed and hawed all night, agonizing over the dilemma if he should return to work, hoping his stepfather would not fire him. During the day, as he operated his machine his stepfather had walked through his department making eye contact with him, saying; nothing. So now, Tony's biggest fear was the answer to the question, if the man would pay him at the end of the week, or would he send him on his way. He knew it was a risk he'd have to take, in order to afford the cost of meals and clothes and to keep themselves alive on the streets. Tony knew he was a good worker; that was something his father couldn't deny.

He stood outside the factory for a short while to see if Tim would meet him there. With no sign of him he started his way back to the alleyway by his stepfather's apartment. On the way, he stopped to purchase a plate of clams by one of the street vendors. He sat on a nearby stoop, dipping the clams, individually into the melted butter served on the side. When he was done he deposited the empty plate in the trash, licking his fingers as he continued on his way home.

When he reached the alley way there was no sign of Tim. He walked the alley's full length, searching behind dumpsters and under boxes to see if he had fallen asleep. When he called out his name and received no response, he started to panic, where could he be?

Tim had been half-asleep when he left him in the morning…all he instructed him to do was buy something to eat. Tony left the alley way and walked up and down the street making sure to observe every doorway and stairwell. Different scenarios played out in his imagination as he searched; he could have been hit by a streetcar or horse carriage, murdered, lost, abducted for unknown reasons; Tim could be dead and gone forever and Tony would never know.

Tony felt weak and exhausted. Tears spilled down his cheeks as he located the same spot they had both slept the night before. He curled into a ball, wrapping his arms around his bent legs but he couldn't sleep, keeping his eyes peeled for Tim if he entered the alley. Tony's heart beat furiously with anguish; he never felt so all alone. As the night progressed, he began to see dark shapes shift and loom through the alley from where he sat but it was too dark to distinguish what they were.

He remembered what his mother had told him, when all else fails; pray. God will listen; right now, he was the only one who would. He finally fell into a fitful sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

Tony began to wake, the sun was warm but he felt a sudden presence, something blocking its strong light. He slowly opened his eyes, adjusting to a small gang of kids huddled in front of him; watching him. A tall girl with jet black hair tied into wild ponytails held with purple ribbons towered directly over him. She was wearing a long, wool, black coat over a dark, blue dress that was cut shorter than normal dresses he'd seen on girls. Black stockings reached and covered her knees. He rubbed his eyes confused to what he was actually looking at. She glared at him through squinting eyes, her face scrunched in an angry snarl. Her hands were on her hips. She worked her mouth, chewing on…a cigar? Tony had seen boys his age smoking cigars but never a girl.

"You're new to the streets...What's your name?" She pulled the short stub from her mouth then blew a puff of smoke above his head.

Tony glanced over the other kids...Next to the tall one, was a smaller girl dressed like a boy, her blonde hair tucked under a cap; sucking on a candy stick. He knew she was a girl because she had a very pretty...Delicate face. Her brows were furrowed as she glared at him with disdain. On the other side of the tall girl, stood a boy wearing spectacles with tape wound tightly around the bridge of the nose piece. With his hands stuffed in his front pockets, he fidgeted then cleared his throat as Tony's eyes glanced over him. He was about the same age as himself. Next to him was a kid about the same height as Tony with black, curly hair. He had a newspaper bag over one shoulder.

As mean as these kids tried to appear Tony felt a sort of innocence about them. He got the feeling they were harmless and more than anything only curious.

Tony stood, stretching with a yawn. He acted disinterested as he walked past the tall girl, lightly bumping her shoulder, heading towards the street to check for Tim. "What's it to you?" he called back in response.

The City Hall clock indicated seven o'clock, much too late to go to work but it didn't matter. He would spend the day looking for Tim. He looked up and down the street then glanced over his shoulder checking the alley hoping to see some sign of him but knew it was futile. If Tim hadn't been curled up by his side when he awoke he knew it meant he was still missing. He did his best to conceal the incredible desolation he was now experiencing, hoping to keep his tough image intact for the sake of these kids he knew nothing about. A girl that smoked a cigar? He heard stories about just how tough kids were that lived on the streets, he couldn't afford to take any chances in jeopardizing his safety, he needed to rescue Tim.

Could these kids be any help? He could offer them money if need be. Just as he was about to address them, he felt a hand on his shoulder, the tall girl pulled him around to face her.

"Hey, I'm talking to you. You shouldn't be here. This is Dornie's street. You're in his territory."  
>"So. Who's Dornie?-"<br>The tall girl jabbed her thumb in the black-haired boy's direction. "He's a newsie."  
>Tony glared at Dornie giving him the best 'angry face' he could muster until the kid gulped in fear. "Well I ain't selling no papers. I got another job so I ain't no threat to…Dornie."<p>

"Why are you alone?" The small girl sucking on the candy spoke up, "Don't you have any friends?"

"I don't need any…I have a brother-"  
>"Then where is he?" she asked, interested. Tony softened when he caught a glint of concern in her voice.<p>

Tony felt his throat constrict then turned to face the group. He couldn't stop the tears that filled his eyes but kept his expression; sullen and resentful. "We just got kicked out by our step father's…I went to work yesterday and …Timmy was gone when I got back." Tony knew he couldn't keep talking if he wanted to hide the tremor that was growing in his voice.

The blonde girl stepped forward, reaching towards Tony with realization in her stare, "Wait…Timmy is his name?"

Tony nodded, excited, "Yeah. Have you seen him?" His mouth gaped as he grabbed the girl's shoulders, earnestly.

The blonde girl inhaled then holding her breath bit her bottom lip, her face twisting with worry. Tony gave her shoulders a slight shake. "Well?"

She exhaled then blurted out, "Well, we heard he went up against Butch and his gang yesterday at the docks."

Tony's hands dropped from her shoulders, "Butch? And his gang? Who are they?"

The tall girl grabbed his arm, "Hey listen…We can help you find him."

"But!" The blonde girl pulled on the tall girl's arm then shook her head, vigorously when they made eye contact.

The blonde girl brought her attention back to Tony. "I hear it wasn't pretty."

"What's that supposed to mean…it wasn't pretty? Did Butch hurt him?"

The tall girl stepped towards Tony and reached out her hand to shake his, "I'm Abigail-"  
>"Miss Abigail of Lower Manhattan!" The kid with specs piped in.<p>

"You can call me Abby. This here is Jimmy, and that's Ellie. And you already know he's Dornie." She pointed at the kid with the black hair with her cigar. "Word on the street is they stabbed him..Uh, your brother-"  
>"Stabbed?" Tony fought a sob climbing from his chest into his throat as his shoulders crumbled.<p>

"But, we won't know for sure till we check it out. Kids like to make up tales to keep their reps in good standing. It happened over at the seaport and I know just the person that can help us."

"Jethro?" Jimmy asked Abby with a bright smile on his face.

"Jethro." nodded Abby.

"So, Timmy could be okay? Where are the docks? Can you show me? And who's Jethro?" asked Tony. Abby wrapped an arm around his shoulders. "This is your lucky day, Tony. Not only have you been fortunate enough to have come across the likes of me and gifted with my presence and the presence of my wonderful gang, but I also have friends in high places." Abby looked over her shoulder as they left the area. "Have a good day, Dornie!"

"Bye, Miss Abigail!" Dornie waved.

They crossed the street then made their way down Lexington. "Where do you work, Tony?"  
>"Triangle Shirt Company. Tim was fired so he's on his own while I go to work-"<br>"How old is Timmy?" asked Ellie.

"Five. He'll be six next week…"

Abby stopped walking. "Five?"  
>"Yeah, why?" asked Tony.<br>Abby didn't answer, a look of worry on her face.

"It's just that Butch is twelve." said Jimmy.

"Twelve? Then what the hell is a big kid like that picking on a little five-year-old-"  
>Abby put up a hand. "That's Butch's MO. He preys on the small and weak. Hey, let's not jump to any conclusions. We'll find out soon enough."<p>

"Well, If Jethro was there…" Jimmy said encouragingly wagging his brows.

"Who's Jethro?" asked Tony.

"Who's Jethro!" Ellie jumped in front of Tony smiling, "Only the best grown-up we know. He acts grumpy but he's really not."

"He works at the docks." said Abby. "He kinda helps us out every once in a while. There was a time he grew up on the streets, too so he knows what it's like."

Tony felt positive. If this man named Jethro really looked out for kids that needed help, maybe there was a chance Tim was okay.

Tony smiled, a new found spring in his step. These kids were helping him and he didn't even have to ask for their assistance. He watched the sidewalk pass under his scuffling feet. He gasped when he noticed the shoes Abby was wearing; he couldn't believe he hadn't seen them sooner, then again, he was very distracted. They were shoes like he had never seen before. They were black with big, clunky heels that must have made the girl stand six inches taller than she really was. Tony figured it couldn't hurt to talk as they walked and get to know these kids a little bit better. "Abby?"  
>"Yeah?"<br>"Where did you get those shoes?"  
>"My father got them when he went to Europe."<br>"Europe?"  
>"He's a diplomat and travels everywhere."<p>

Tony stopped; sudden bewilderment across his face. "Wait. If that's the case why are you on the streets?"

Ellie talked before Abby could answer, "Because she wants to be. She looks out for us."

"Let me get this straight. You're homeless but you don't have to be?"

"Hey. I look at it as a learning experience. I learn so much more out here on the streets then I can in any ol' classroom."

Tony shook his head as he let out a tight breath. "Now I've heard everything." They continued on their way.

Jimmy walked so he was beside Tony. "Consider yourself lucky we have her looking out for us. She goes home every once in a while and comes back with clean clothes and food. I'd be dead if it wasn't for her." Jimmy was looking at Abby admiringly. "She's really somethin.'"

"I'll say."

Tony's mind wandered as they walked. He realized what he had done wasn't much different than what Abby did. He had done the same for Tim. He supposed he could have stayed with his step father but he chose to follow Tim out onto the streets.

But, now Tim could be dead, murdered at the seaport by a kid that was probably three times his size. If he ever got a hold of this Butch kid…

Tony knew they were nearing the docks when the air became salty and he could hear the sharp squawks of seagulls in the sky. He started to run, eager now to know if his brother was alive.

"Wait! These shoes aren't made for running!" Abby yelled. Tony hopped, waving them to come faster. When Abby made her strides longer as she puffed her cigar Tony began to yell Tim's name toward the direction of the fish market.

Jimmy grabbed his arm, "Do you want to make a skeptical of yourself. Low key is the secret of survival my friend. Believe me, we don't want to draw attention from Butch and the likes of his gang."

"But-" Tony pouted.

Abby was now passing them out, "Wait here, I see Jethro. He's working the counter." A young man with dark, thick hair was standing behind a counter chopping fish. He wore a bloody apron over his chest and his long sleeves were rolled up. Abby made her way to him then stood at the counter, flapping her hands excitedly to get his attention.

"Is that-" Tony started towards the man and Abby but Ellie and Jimmy held him back.

"Abby always talks to Jethro first. She gets a feel for his mood…It's best that way." said Ellie. "Plus its not good to loiter near his work station...He could get into trouble and lose his job with all us hanging around him all day."

"But-" Tony released an exasperated sigh then frowned at Jimmy.

"Sorry, puppy eyes don't work on me."  
>Tony frantically scanned the market. It was busy and there were no signs of any other kids but themselves; but, it was also very busy and it was difficult to take in all the sights of the vast crowds.<p>

"Hey!" Abby was waving him over. He didn't waste any time and took off in a flash.

When he reached the counter he was out of breath. "Hello Mr. Jethro, have you seen a little, blonde-haired kid?"

The man was focused on his work and did not look up. He talked to Tony without making eye contact. "Abby here tells me you have a little brother."

"Yes, sir, I do."  
>"So, its Timmy?"<p>

"Yes, that's his name, have you seen him? It's important. I can't find him anywhere and I really miss him-"

The man finally eyed Tony giving him a soft smile. "You remind me of my brother. You're a strong kid, aren't you?"

"Figure I have to be, sir."

"And good manners?"

"It's a good thing to have when you need help to find something you really want back."

"I like honesty in a kid; that's not something I see too often these days." said Jethro with a wink.

Jethro motioned for Tony, "Come here." He wagged a finger at him to come around the counter. "I've seen your brother."

Tony felt his heart beat against his chest as he scurried over. Jethro crouched down and lifted a flap of plastic that draped over his work station, pointing to underneath his counter. Once Tony's eyes focused on the interior of the cramped space onto one of the dark nooks, he spotted a sleeping Tim. He was sitting, leaning against a crate with his chin against his chest in a deep sleep, a burlap sack over his legs. Tony dropped to all fours then quickly crawled to his brother pulling his sleeping form into his arms. "Tim."

Tim slowly aroused as his arms weakly circled Tony's body. "Tony? I missed you...But, I knew...You'd come back."


	4. Chapter 4

Tony tugged on Tim's arm, motivating him to leave the security of his hiding place. Tony exited first, finding Abby's gang all standing in front of Gibbs' fileting counter, curious to meet the small boy that faced Butch and his gang, single-handedly and survived. Tim was slow and dazed; sloppy... as he slowly crawled out backwards then stood; unaware of the other kids. He stretched, the edge of his shirt lifting to reveal a small cut just to the right of his belly button.

"Hey, is that where Butch stabbed you?" Jimmy asked, pointing.

Tim regarded the boy wearing spectacles blankly then pulled up his shirt to inspect his stomach to where he was referring to.

"Hhmm." He dropped his shirt, "Yeah, but Jefro stopped him, in just a nick of time-"

"He did that!?" Tony then pointed towards Tim's face. "And…Did Butch give you that black eye, too?"

Tim's hand gingerly touched his upper cheek then his fingers sprang back, evident it still smarted. "I...'Spose he did. Him or another one of them kids he was with." Tim shrugged; unfazed by the name he created for himself now rapidly spreading like wildfire among the orphans that roamed the streets.

Jethro looked down at Tony as he filleted and gutted a silver-skinned fish across his table. "I applied ice to reduce most of the swelling." He looked over the gang as he worked, "Could you kids promise me you'll keep a good eye on this little one? He did a good job confronting Butch and his posse' but he was out numbered; let's just say he was lucky I came along when I did." Gibbs whipped a pile of entrails into a nearby wastebin. "As a matter of fact I want you all to stick together like glue and make sure everyone is accounted for at all times."

They all agreed, barking 'okays' and complying with agreement.

"Where's Butch now, Jethro?" Abby asked.

"I told them to skedaddle. They shouldn't be bothering you for a while. I put the fear of God in them." Jethro smiled, reassuringly.

Tony brought his attention back to his brother and reached over; squeezing his shoulder. "Hey, I just want you to know it's okay if they stole the money from you, Tim. I'm just glad you're okay."

Tim raised a closed palm in front of Tony then slowly opened it. "Who said I lost the money, Tony?" Tony's face lit up with a toothy grin then he pulled Tim to his chest as he beamed towards the others while they witnessed their reuniting; their obvious strong relationship. "That's my brother…"

Tony wanted to tell him how proud he was of him but was too choked up to speak. He felt his eyes fill from tears as the last twelve hours of anguish released. He caught Jethro eyeing him and cleared his throat as he sniffled, rubbing his nose. Jethro gave him a wink.

"Come on guys, let's get some breakfast." Tony talked to everyone, including Jethro. "It's on me."

"Thanks, but I'll be manning my station here for the next ten hours."

"But, I owe-"  
>"All I want is for all you guys to stick together from now on. I'm too busy guttin' these fish to keep my eyes on all of yous all day." Tim stepped closer to the man and wrapped his arms around his thigh, hugging him with silent gratitude. Jethro ruffled his hair, "Now, go on."<p>

Tim's head leaned back as he admired the man that helped him when all other strangers walked past in a time of dire need. "I…Love you…Jefro."

"Now what'd I say? Go on." Gibbs waved him off but Tim waited. Gibbs finally winked at Tim that initiated a big smile from the small boy just before he turned and joined the others.

Abby saluted Jethro and Tony could see Gibbs smile to himself as soon as Abby turned away, guiding everyone back towards Canal Street.

"I'm starving-" said Ellie.

"Me, too." said Tim looking at the small blonde by his side as they walked. "What's your name?"

"Ellie."

"Ellie? But, you're a boy!"

Ellie shoved Tim hard enough to push him off the sidewalk.

"Hey, careful. I almost got runned over by a streetcar."

"Then it'd serve you right!"  
>"How do you figure?!"<br>Jimmy walked in between the two squabbling children. Tim and Ellie were close in height and he towered over them being four years older. He pulled Ellie's cap from her head revealing her long, straight, blonde hair.

"Hey! Do you know you're a girl?" cried Tim.

Ellie kicked Jimmy in the shins then grabbed her cap back from the perplexed boy.

"Hey! What was that for?" asked Jimmy.  
>"You revealed my identity! And it wasn't yours to reveal!"<p>

They walked further in silence until Tim nudged his shoulder into Ellie's. "Why do you want to be a boy Ellie?"

"Because it's safer on the streets if you're a boy."

"Oh. Well…I'm not so sure about that. You might want to rethink your strategies." Ellie pouted then stuck her tongue out at Tim. He answered her by rolling his eyes; a look of confusion.

They came upon a restaurant and Tony waved them to go inside but Abby confronted him. "We can't go in there; did you see the sign?" She pointed to a small wooden sign nailed next to the entrance. "No Vagrants"

"What's a vagrant." asked Tony.

"Well…You are." said Abby trying to coat her words with a touch of compassion. "We live on the streets-"  
>Tony stormed past her, "We'll see about that. My money is as good as anyone else's."<p>

"Excuse me…Sir?" An older man dressed in a crisp, white dress shirt and black slacks with a black apron tied around his waist blocked Tony's path before he could enter the restaurant. All the kids walked into him as they halted abruptly.

"Hey!"  
>"Watch out!"<br>The man had his hand on Tony's chest to stop them from taking one step closer into the dining area.

"We'd like a table sir; one of your finest." Tony calculated in his head how many there were of them. "A table for six…No! Five." He had thought of Dornie then realized he was left behind selling newspapers.

"I'm sorry sir, but apparently you cannot read or you would not have entered."

Abby stepped forward, "We can read perfectly fine…And we ain't no vagrants." She gritted her teeth glaring at the man with her bottom lip, plump and pursed.

"I see-"  
>"Excuse me, Walter?"<br>Tony was shocked to see Earnest step alongside…Walter. "Earnest? What are you doing here?" asked Tony.

Earnest raised a finger to Tony to let him know he'd handle it. "Walter, this is my brother Tony and…My other brother, Tim and their friends. I assure you, they are not vagrants."

"Oh. Excuse me…My mistake. Please. Do come in. Earnest will show you to your table. Hope you all enjoy your meal." Abby kept her eyes on Walter, her arms tightly crossed over her chest as she followed the others to their table.

Tim had run to the head of the small group to hang onto Ernest's trousers, excited to see him. "Hi Ernest. I missed you. Know what? I saw a duck…And it was green…"

Tony felt a sudden anger towards his half- brother and he wasn't sure why. He watched with contempt as Ernest tousled Tim's hair; he wanted to slap his hand away; he had no right to touch Tim.

"That's great Tim. Was it at Turtle pond? The one in the park?"

"Uh-huh. I fed him bread, too."

Tim kept talking but Ellie chimed in gaining Tim's attention as they carried on a conversation of their own.

Earnest squeezed Tony's shoulder, "How's it going Chief?" Ernest had always called Tony chief when he wanted a heart to heart. He had always treated Tim and himself with respect and compassion. He didn't want to be mad at his big brother but he felt…Hurt. Why didn't he come looking for them? Why didn't he intervene when he had the chance or at least check up on them? He was especially curious to why his brother was now working as a waiter at this restaurant.

They walked through the dining room to a table against the far wall. Tony could feel his older brother's eyes on him but ignored his question and his observing eyes. What he really wanted to do was turn to him and hug him. He had missed him, too.

Tim again, tugged on Earnest's trousers. "Look, Ernest." He had lifted his shirt to expose the cut on his torso. "A kid stabbed me but a nice man saved me."

"Wait…What?" Ernest crouched in front of Tim to study the minor knife wound. "Shouldn't that be bandaged?" Tony could see Ernest's face fall when he could now, clearly see Tim's black eye. "Is that how you got the black eye, too?"  
>Tim nodded. Ernest sighed then stood, running a hand through his hair, "Hey. I'm going to get you all some water. I'll be right back to take your orders."<p>

Tony, Abby and Jimmy read the menus out loud for the younger kids then relayed the orders to Ernest when he returned with the water pitcher, pouring them all a glass. "When your done eating, I want to talk to you, Anthony." Ernest was crouched by his side, quietly talking in Tony's ear.

They all ate, shoving down their food and satisfying their hungry appetites, each pleased with Tony's generosity. Tony crunched on the last crust of bread just when Dornie entered the restaurant, out of breath, "Hey, I just saw Butch and he's looking for you!"

Tony turned towards Tim to see him suddenly cower behind Ellie.

"Good. 'Cause I have something I need to say to him." Tony stood, counting his money to pay the tab then started towards the door.

"Tony, no!" Tim yelled.


End file.
